


Picnic at the DMV

by stifledlaughter



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, Deep Dish Nine, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2479034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stifledlaughter/pseuds/stifledlaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian's license renewal procrastination leads to an impromptu evening at the DMV, but Garak doesn't particularly mind. </p><p>Deep Dish Nine alternate universe fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picnic at the DMV

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was in no way inspired by the author's personal experience with the DMV renewal process. Nope. Of course not. Not at all. 
> 
> Many thanks again to Lady Yate-xel for creating the DD9 universe and letting people play in it. This fic is set before an established relationship, unlike my other fic, Critical Strike.

“Oh my god, oh my god, she has a lizard in her purse-“

“ _What_?!”

 _“_ That _woman_ has a _lizard_ in her _purse-!”_

Sudden shrieking erupted, chairs flipping, license plates flying everywhere, the chaos, oh the chaos, a man picked up a chair to throw at the lizard skittering across the floor and the chair almost collided with Julian-

Garak leaped and yanked Julian out of the way with snakelike speed, pinning him to the ground and shielding him as the chair slammed into the wall and splintered into pieces.

The DMV was silent.

Save for the rapidly beating hearts of the two men awkwardly folded on the floor, and the tiny voice of a child asking, “Mommy, where did the lizard go?”

_Two hours earlier…_

Garak clicked the last lock shut on his shop, peering inside to check for any forgotten lights left on. Satisfied, he turns and heads into Deep Dish Nine, his hands already shaking in slight nervousness as he pushes the door open. The bell chimed and Kira looked up from the register. “You here for Julian?”

“Indeed,” he replied, his best customer-service smile plastered on his face. She turned and called back, “Julian! It’s four! You’re off! Leave!” She turned back to Garak and had an unusual smile on her face. “He’ll be a second.”

Garak briefly wondered what this was all about, but then had to bite back a grin as Julian emerged from the back, absolutely covered in flour.

Head to toe. The red of the Deep Dish Nine shirt had become a muted rose pastel underneath the white dust, and Julian’s normally warm brown skin looked dusty and pale. “Hi, Garak. I’m going to need to wash up before tonight, you see.” His eyes had no hint of laughter as he looked up at Garak like a surprised puppy who didn’t quite understand what just happened.

Kira burst out laughing and ducked behind the counter, snickering. Julian gave her a stern look that, even if he hadn’t had been doused in flour, wouldn’t have had any affect anyway on his supervisor.

“Well… let me… carry your bag for you then,” improvised Garak, trying desperately not to make Julian feel any more pathetic than he already did. Normally he would be rife with smart remarks for his literature companion, but Julian looked positively woeful.

“Thanks, Garak. I just need to quickly shower and we can head to the park.” They had agreed to spend tonight having a picnic in the park that had free summer concerts from local artists, which fit Garak’s idea of culture (music) and Julian’s budget (free).  Julian gingerly took his bag from the closet behind the register and handed it to Garak, so as not to completely cover it in flour.

They exited in silence, and started heading towards the apartments. Garak could not keep the smile off of his face as Julian tried in vain to brush the flour off of his arms and face, shaking like a dog freeing itself of water.

“May I ask…” started Garak, letting the rest of the sentence fall to Julian’s interpretation.

“Jadzia challenged Worf to a fight with a bat’leth in the store room. I walked in with a bag of flour from the afternoon shipment right as they began.”

“I see,” responded Garak evenly, using all of his energy to not laugh at poor Julian leaving floury tracks in his path.

Julian sighed, causing a puff of white dust to fly out of his nose. “This happened literally a minute before you came in. That was the last thing I was supposed to do on my shift. Luckily, Mr. Sisko made Jadzia and Worf clean it up for using dangerous weapons in the storage room.”

“Aren’t bat’leths illegal to bring outside of private residences without a permit?”

“I think that because of the apartments behind the strip mall, Worf found a loophole… anyway, let’s just forget this happened.”

 _Never_ , thought Garak as his mouth said, “Of course”.

Julian stomped around in the grass outside of the apartment, shaking the dust off with wiggles and kicks. With Julian’s back to him and no one else around, Garak allowed himself a broad smile. As unpleasant as it was for Julian, this would be a memory to cherish.

“Okay, I think I’ve got all of it that was loose off.” Julian pulled on the door handle of the apartments, his hand slipping off the first few times, and finally succeeding after several more angry attempts. He cast a look back at Garak- _I dare you to say anything-_ to which Garak responded silently, wide eyed and innocent – _Why would I say anything?_

Once they were inside, Julian headed straight for the bathroom, leaving Garak to look around and try not to sigh audibly at the mess.

“Can you look for the advertisement for the concert? We’ll need that map to get to the area where it’s held. I got lost in Orion Park once with Miles, I think we were heading back from the bars that time…” The shower turned on, and anything else he said was drowned out by water.

Garak skimmed through the stack of mail and paper, fishing through advertisements, credit card offers, flyers for events at the university-

Something, however, was marked “URGENT” in red letters, and Garak’s eyes narrowed slightly at the return address.

“Julian?” _Talk to him as if you don’t know he’s completely naked and wet in the shower. You are friends. Friends talk to friends naked as if it was not an issue._ He could be completely making this up, he hadn’t really had many friends throughout his life, but he needed to make up something to help him focus on the possible problem at hand.

“What is it?” Julian’s voice barely rose above the sound of the shower.

“You have a letter from the DMV, and it says urgent. Have you renewed your driver’s license recently?” Although Julian had no car, Sisko had him occasionally take the Defiant on deliveries when Worf was out, so Garak knew that letting it lapse would be problematic.

There was silence, and then, “Oh SHIT” and within seconds the shower had been switched off, Garak heard a _whump_ and the sound of a towel being ripped off of the wall rack, and the bathroom door burst open.

Julian lunged out of the door, dripping wet, black curls plastered to his forehead as he ripped the letter from Garak’s hand and tore it open. The bright green and orange towel had been haphazardly thrown around his waist and slipped slightly with the weight of the water being added every second from the streams falling off of Julian’s chest. Garak focused as hard as he could on Julian’s face and not that chest slick with water or those warm golden brown hips peeking out from above the towel.

“Oh fuckity fuck,” groaned Julian, reading the letter inside. “Garak, we have a change of plans.”

“What’s wrong?” The towel was slipping lower and lower and the curves of Julian’s hips were plain to see, glistening with water-

_Look at his FACE, Elim, don’t be such an animal-_

“I have to renew my license by tonight or else I have to retake the test, and I failed it the first two times when I originally got my license. I am awful at driving while being watched. I can’t afford this, Worf is on vacation soon and I have to be able to drive the Defiant.” He looked up pleadingly at Garak. “I’m so sorry, this is my fault, but can we stop at the DMV? It’ll ruin our plans for tonight, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”

_When that towel falls that will be payment enough, my dear-_

“Oh damn this towel,” snapped Julian, flustered by the impromptu shower and now the DMV letter. He yanked it up and tied it in a knot at the corner, crinkling the letter into a wet wad as he did so. “There!”

Garak looked up, simultaneously thankful and disappointed. _You are a lecherous old man, Elim_ , he chastised himself. “It’s no problem at all, Julian. I’ll accompany you- we can have our picnic at the DMV.” Not quite the setting he had imagined, but any time with Julian was better than no time.

Julian broke out in a huge smile and threw the letter on the desk quickly. “Let me get dressed- the DMV closes at seven and it’s only four fifteen, we still have time. We could be out by six and still make the last half of the concert if we’re lucky.” With that he hopped back into the bathroom, shutting the door and allowing Garak a moment to recover from seeing Julian in such a… tousled fashion. Had Julian not known the effect it would have on Garak?  Or did he truly see Garak in such a non-sexual manner that it wasn’t even a possibility to him? Or was Julian being so comfortable around Garak a hopeful sign that maybe there could be something more there?

He had been hoping for a slightly more romantic night, to be sure. There had been several halting moments between the two of them that made him wonder if he could go a bit farther. There had been pauses, touches that lingered a second too long, or conversations that touched on topics he dare not speak of with anyone else. He had wondered if tonight, listening to music in the park on a blanket, full of homemade food and springwine, that maybe something else might happen…

Unfortunately, the uncomfortable plastic chairs and dull-voiced number calling at the DMV certainly did not a romantic atmosphere make. However, Garak would find the silver lining if it involved Julian. “I’ll be back shortly with the picnic basket- shall I meet you at the front of the apartments?”

“Sure!” shouted Julian from the bathroom, and then Garak heard a hard thud and “OW!”. Something clattered to the floor; Julian must have fallen trying to put on his jeans. Resisting the strong urge to stay and make sure that Julian did not hurt himself in his rush to get the DMV, Garak willed himself to head out of the apartment, casting one last glance at the bathroom door.

Back in his own place, Garak pulled the picnic basket out of the fridge, peeking inside to check for anything missing, and then wrapped it in extra fabric from his unusable scraps collection. He did remove the springwine before tying off the wrapping, however- he suspected alcohol at the DMV would not reflect kindly upon Julian’s rushed state and irresponsibility. He instead grabbed several water bottles from the fridge and put them in the basket.

As he was stowing the springwine back in his pantry, he noticed the book he had placed out on his living room table several days ago. It was a Cardassian romantic epic, one of the ones that had been banned in Cardassia centuries until a more relaxed regime had allowed it to be published again. Some of the themes such as betrayal of the State for love, as well as love between different political and social backgrounds, had caused the book to be instantly banned upon publication.

It was one of Garak’s favorites, although getting him to admit that out loud was impossible. He even made sure not to own it himself- he borrowed it from different libraries, always making sure to check it out with plenty of time in between readings.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to suggest it to Julian to read. He desperately wanted someone to talk to about the book, and maybe show him aspects of the book that could be interpreted differently by someone who wasn’t of Cardassia. But something had held him back- lending a romance to someone was a sign, a symbol. He wasn’t sure he wanted to give that yet. It had been his plan to see how the evening in the park went.

He heard Julian thumping down the stairs outside his door, and quickly exited, locking up speedily as Julian called down, “Hey, it looks like I beat you!”

“I wasn’t aware we were racing,” replied Garak. He hoisted the basket up to a better position and met Julian at the front of the tiny, cramped foyer. “Onwards?”

“To the DMV!” With that, Julian pulled on Garak’s arm, feeling immensely better not covered in flour. His hair was still wet and dripped little droplets onto Garak’s coat, but he said nothing. He hadn’t had anyone physically close enough to him to do anything like that in such a long time.

“Have you all of your documents, Julian?”

“Yeah… We had to have basically all of the same documents to apply to med school, and I haven’t touched the folder since.” Garak noticed a slightly ripped blue and white folder under Julian’s arm that said IMPORTANT SHIT across it.

“’Important shit’? Really, Julian?”

“Gets to the point, doesn’t it? Besides, I’ll turn it inside out when I get to the DMV.” He turned to Garak and smiled broadly. “It’s funny, I’ve never been excited to go to the DMV, but I’m with you and that’ll pass the time a lot easier, don’t you think?”

“I’m here to serve you,” mockingly replied Garak, giving a short bow as they continued down the street.

“Hm, good. Tell me a story then, storyteller.” Lately Garak and Julian had been exchanging their favorite childhood fairy tales and lore. Julian had a sneaking suspicion that Garak was trying to impart Cardassian values on him through these stories, but he didn’t care- they were small insights into Garak’s character that he couldn’t have squeezed out of him otherwise.

“Have I told you about the girl that learned of a secret she wasn’t mean to learn?” They continued down the street as people began to leave work and stream onto the sidewalks and onto the streets.

So it wasn’t the evening Garak had imagined- but it was hard not to appreciate it all the same. With midterms and the pizza parlor taking up all of his time, Julian had hardly been around for more than a quick break and lunch for two weeks. The air was mild and slightly breezy. Several times when Garak gestured with the story, his hands brushed Julian’s arm. Julian never moved farther away after each slight touch. Garak’s mouth was telling the story, but his mind was on every single light brush against Julian’s, and how warm and soft he was.

By the time Garak had finished the fairytale with a “And that is why loyalty to the State served her and her family well”, they had arrived at the DMV. They entered and Julian walked up to the counter, placing his documents on the cold plastic surface and quickly flipping the folder upside down. “Hi, I’m here to renew my license?”

“You got all of your documents?” asked the woman behind the counter, clearly bored and at the end of her shift. She flicked through the papers, skimming for the necessary addresses and documents. Garak shivered slightly- the DMV was kept at a normal temperature for residents of Alpha City, but he couldn’t stand the chilly draft sweeping through the room. The cold plastic chairs and beige tiles didn’t seem to promise any warmth either.

“Yeah,” replied Julian, looking around at the people in the DMV. Garak assessed that, by the way things were moving and how many people were there, that it would be at least a half hour wait.

“Here’s your number. Fill out this form while you wait.” She thrust it at him and then turned to Garak. “Next!”

“I’m here with him,” said Garak, and the woman raised a single eyebrow.

“You’re waiting with him at the DMV?”

“It’s a picnic,” Julian added unhelpfully.

“Date night at the DMV? That’s romantic.” She snorted and moved off, looking up at the clock. Julian turned quickly and headed towards the seating area, but not before Garak noted that his face was flushed.

 _Did she think we were a date? And why didn’t Julian correct her? Why didn’t_ I _correct her?_ Garak realized, his stomach twisting, that he didn’t want to correct her. He wanted her to think that they were the type of couple to go on a date to the DMV. The type to make a picnic and go because any date night is better than no date night.

“Garak?” called Julian from a corner of the seating area. “Are you alright?” His face, still slightly flushed, looked concerned.

“It’s nothing,” murmured Garak, knowing that Julian couldn’t hear him, heading towards the concerned med student. “Onto the paperwork, then? I’ll start unpacking the basket.”

“Uh, yeah.” With an awkward pause, Julian started to scribble down words on the application, his cheeks fading back to their normal warm tawny hue.

Garak placed the basket on a chair next to them and took out the sandwiches and Tupperware container full of apple slices and carrot sticks. He made an effort to add as many fruits and vegetables to their shared meals as possible- it seemed as if Julian had no appetite or will to feed himself some days. Garak couldn’t tell if it was conscious or if Julian felt that he truly didn’t need to eat. It concerned him greatly, but he still felt that it was not his place to say or do anything. All he could do was subtly add some desperately needed nutrients to a diet that consisted mainly of pizza and frozen dinners.

“Give me a second, I’ll eat when I’m done with this application,” said Julian as Garak offered him his sandwich (the end wrapped neatly in a cloth napkin so that it did not spill- Garak did love the little details). The pen clacked on the neon plastic clipboard as Julian hastily filled out the top half.

Garak wasn’t one to pry, but his eyes skimmed over what he could see of the application. Name, age, address… all of the basics. Not that he didn’t already know all of that – Julian was an open book, unlike him.

“Damn, I always forget my insurance info,” muttered Julian, pushing the clipboard aside to dig in his wallet for his insurance cards, sticking the pen in his mouth. “Ha!” He took it out and started copying the card information on the application, but the card kept sliding off of the paper. “Dammit. Garak, can you hold it?”

“Of course.” Garak held it up as Julian scrawled the information down, his handwriting already blossoming into the terrible script of doctors. “My dear, if I can say so, your handwriting is… atrocious.”

“I know, I know,” sighed Julian, finishing up the application. “Okay… no felonies, I’m a citizen, yes, yes…” He took the card back, shoved it in his wallet, and continued filling out the signature boxes in scrawling loops.

“Perhaps if you write slower, it might be more legible?” Not that Garak particularly cared if Julian had beautiful handwriting or not, but it was more concern that he would have to redo the application and waste precious time inside of this cold, fluorescent hell.

“It’s… it’s a thing since I was a kid.” Something bitter broke in his voice there, and Garak noted that the charming flush was gone now. “It’s like if I don’t write it all down fast enough, my thoughts overwhelm me. It’s a habit. I just write as fast as I can to get it all out.”

Garak could tell this was a sensitive topic and decided not to breach it here in public at the DMV. “If you are finished with the application, shall we continue onto dinner?” He offered the sandwich again to Julian, who looked up at him, shaken out of his thoughts.

“Yeah! Thanks for making these, Garak. I don’t think I’ve had a picnic in ages.” He set the clipboard and application aside and began to eagerly wolf down the sandwich. Garak smiled and began to peacefully eat his. They passed several minutes simply enjoying the food as the DMV activities continued around them. There were several odd stares, but everyone was so focused on their own issues on why they were there that the looks didn’t last long.

“So, let’s play a game,” proposed Julian as he spread his napkin on his lap and placed several apple slices on it from the Tupperware container in the basket. “Why is each person here at the DMV?”

“Surely for the same reason you are,” replied Garak, unsure of what Julian meant. “Something to do with their license?”

“No, no, why _we_ think they are here,” explained Julian, dropping his voice conspiratorially. “They’ve all got stories – let’s figure them out. For example…” he glanced around and nodded towards a woman in a bright green shawl. “Her.” She was sitting about four or five seats away from them, staring straight ahead.

“What about her?” Hm, a game of imagination… Garak was fond of stories, as was Julian, and this could be a useful exercise in seeing how quickly Julian could create stories if needed. Yes, this could be interesting.

“Well…” Julian leaned closer to Garak, his breath brushing Garak’s right ear. “You see her purse? It’s quite big. And she’s reached into it several times in the past few minutes… but pulled nothing out.”

“You’ve been watching her?” Garak had noticed the exact same occurrence, but wasn’t aware that Julian had done the same. _And why do I feel proud of him for keeping such attention to his surroundings?_

“Yeah, and sometimes she looks in there, but doesn’t do anything about what’s inside.” Julian’s eyes sparkled as he leaned even closer, his eyes staying on the woman. “So… what’s inside the bag?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Julian,” replied Garak softly, trying not to brim with excitement at the proximity of Julian’s lips to his cheek. “Do tell me, do you always keep such… attentive tabs on what’s going on around you?” Not to do his Julian any disservice, but the poor med student did seem a bit… distracted at times. It added to his charm, and his distractions provided Garak with the most joy he’d had in years, so he certainly did not want to discourage it.

“Well…” Julian paused, and again a flush crept up on his cheeks. “Well actually, it’s a bit embarrassing, now that I put it into words.”

Garak smiled his “ _but I’m harmless!”_ smile at Julian. “Nonsense!”

Julian picked up an apple slice and bit a piece off, chewing slowly to give himself time. After swallowing, he looked around again and then back at Garak, assessing him. “You won’t laugh?”

“I promise,” solemnly replied Garak, his face completely straight now.

“You lie,” retorted Julian, easing up slightly. He breathed in, and then looked Garak in the eyes, a smile turning up the corners of his lovely lips. “The truth of it is, sometimes, when I’m in a room full of people I don’t know, I’ll scan the room and pretend… Pretend I’m a secret agent, and I’ve got to find the person I’ve been sent to stop in the room before something happens. So I find the person with the most interesting qualities or actions, and then keep tabs on them.” Julian was now blushing furiously. “Oh god, I shouldn’t have told you- I must seem like such a dork-“

“Not at all,” said Garak, who inside was being crushed by waves of affection for this silly, lovable, adorable, heart-breakingly _beautiful_ young man before him. While he had no idea what the actual life of a spy was like, the idea of him mimicking it when he was surrounded by people he didn’t know was heartwarming all the same. “In fact, it’s quite creative. A good way to sharpen the storytelling skills, I’d say.”

Julian breathed a sigh of relief, grinning now. “I thought for a moment you would think I was being… foolish, or ridiculous or something. I’ve never told anyone that, not even Miles.”

“Well, Mr. O’Brien is a rather… practical man,” admitted Garak, amending his words slightly to not offend Julian. They had their silent clashes when Julian met with Garak at Deep Dish Nine, or when they bumped into each other in the hall near the laundry room and Garak’s apartment, but nothing that could cause Garak to truly say anything damning about the man.

“He wouldn’t appreciate it as much as you would. Thanks for not laughing, Garak,” and Julian smiled just for him, those green eyes alight and happy and Garak felt his pulse rapidly speed up, _calm down Elim, calm down-_

“Oh, you brought water, excellent,” noted Julian, and he leaned over Garak’s lap and pressed one of his hands on Garak’s thigh to steady himself as he grabbed one of the bottles, squeezing the leg as he faltered slightly and pulled back, his hand trailing across Garak’s legs.

 _Calm down Elim!_ screamed his mind as Garak calmly commented, his voice not betraying an ounce of feeling from the swirling vortex of chaos going on in his heart, “Ah- it would have been no trouble at all for me to get you one, Julian.”

“Oh no, you did so much, I feel just awkward asking you to get me things constantly,” and with that Julian twisted the cap off of the bottle and threw his head back and began to chug the water in a ridiculous fashion and _Elim stop staring at his throat like a snake about to strike, this isn’t Cardassia and he is not making an offer to you_ and maybe it would be in good measure for Elim to just dump his water bottle on his head to wash out the increasingly dirty thoughts and that caramel warm throat swallowing the water and some dripping down and leaving shining trails down his throat _if this were Cardassia this would be the most brazen demand to bed him and bed him now_ but no, they were in a DMV in a completely different country and –

“You okay?” asked Julian, for the second time jolting Garak out of his thoughts. Insanity, that’s what it was- years of training himself to never be alarmed or thrown off guard and here he was, distracted like a regnar hatchling chasing flies.

“Yes, quite,” replied Garak quickly, settling back into his mature tailor mode. “What else did you notice about the woman, _Agent_ Bashir?”

Julian grinned at the title. “I’m so glad I forced you to watch those Bond movies.”

“They had their moments… but such terrible décor!”

“It was a different time… anyway, she got here after us, but hasn’t filled out any paperwork. She took the application, but she keeps staring ahead and then checking her purse.”

“Perhaps she is waiting for someone?” Garak prodded, curious to see where Julian’s thought process went. His days of going through this process himself were long over, but to see how Julian would proceed in a situation like this was fascinating.

“Maybe… she has a number though.” Indeed, clasped in her hand was a number ticket with “B5” stamped on it in bolded letters. “She could be just asking a question.”

“She could have called in for that instead of waiting,” murmured Garak, watching Julian’s eyes closely. This was something he hadn’t seen much of before- a focus, Julian’s eyes narrowed and looking all around the woman and the people around her. Sometimes when Julian studied, he noticed that the student would work himself into a study trance, flipping pages, reading through them at such speeds that Garak could scarcely believe he was actually gaining any information from them. But when Julian recited his notes back to Garak for practice, it was all there.

The young man wasn’t just bright- he could be brilliant, but that was all hidden beneath the laughter and smiles and modesty. But right now, Julian’s brows were furrowed and his eyes were darting around, seeking more clues. It was almost cute, if it weren’t for the intense look Julian was giving the woman.

“It moved!” he hissed, grabbing Garak’s leg and shaking it. “Did you see that? The purse! It moved! And she wasn’t touching it or anything!”

“Are you sure?” Some people kept small dogs in their purses, but surely that woman hadn’t been keeping a dog in her purse this entire time without letting it out to breathe. “Perhaps it was her phone set to vibrate?” Garak focused all of his attention on the situation and not the warm hand grasping his leg, squeezed for emphasis every time a word was said. _Elim, this is a mission- do not let yourself get carried away by other operatives_ and his training kicked in and he calmed, but only slightly, enough to continue to listen to Julian and process the words. A woman walked by with a pile of license plates, precariously balancing them as she navigated the narrow rows of chairs.

“No, she was texting earlier and put it in her bra,” said Julian, rapid-fire in his response, and again, Garak was pleasantly surprised by Julian’s attentiveness, when the moment called for it. _My dear, the more I learn about you, the more I am drawn in…_ For a brief moment, he was almost glad that the park concert night had been delayed, otherwise he might not have seen this side of Julian.

Suddenly, Julian squeezed Garak’s thigh even harder and gasped. “Oh god oh god-“

“What?”

“Oh my god, oh my god, she has a lizard in her purse-“

“ _What_?!”

 _“_ That _woman_ has a _lizard_ in her _purse-!”_

Sudden shrieking erupted, chairs flipped over, license plates flew everywhere, the chaos, oh the chaos, a man picked up a chair and hurled it at the lizard skittering across the floor and the chair nearly collided with Julian-

Garak leapt and yanked Julian out of the way with snakelike speed, pinning him to the ground and shielding him as the chair slammed into the wall and splintered into pieces.

The DMV was silent.

Save for the rapidly beating hearts of the two men awkwardly folded on the floor, and the tiny voice of a child asking, “Mommy, where did the lizard go?”

There was a soft skittering noise, and then the child happily shrieking, “There, Mommy, right there!” and the chaos began again, and around them people scattered out of the way and Garak instinctively grasped Julian tightly and rolled them both over to a corner, pushing him against the wall. Garak checked behind them for any more flying chairs and stampeding DMV patrons. Adrenaline was pounding through his veins as he ran through the mental checklist of what to do when in an escort mission- scan the room for dangers even after the initial wave has passed, ensure that they were both out of the way of others, and check for damage of the protectee.

“Are you hurt?” demanded Garak, his voice suddenly harsh and flat, keeping track of the maniac who apparently deemed it necessary to throw a chair at a simple escaped reptile. The man was backing up and looking around furiously for the lizard, which presumably wasn’t so stupid as to stick around and had likely vanished behind the counters somewhere. The purse woman, Garak noticed, had vanished. The loudspeaker had resumed to blaring out numbers, much to Garak’s annoyance, and things started to return to normal as people began to pick up chairs and license plates.

“Yes, yes, - I- I’m fine…” stammered Julian, and when Garak was sure that the man wouldn’t be throwing any more chairs, he turned back to Julian and suddenly realized what he had done in the moment. Their faces were nearly touching, and their bodies were pressed up against one another, Garak’s right leg thrown over both of Julian’s, curling around them and pulling them into the Cardassian’s protective hold. Garak’s arms were wrapped around Julian, holding him tightly and pressing him against the wall, fingers sunk into the soft sweater and gripping firmly. Their chests were together, and Garak could _feel_ Julian’s slamming heart against his, as he was sure Julian could do the same. Julian’s hands had moved up to grasp Garak’s waist in the flurry of movement, and they looked at each other, paused, neither of them pulling away.

“Th-thanks for saving me from that… chair?” Was that a question? How was he supposed to interpret that? Why wasn’t Julian letting go? _Why am I not letting go?_ “How did you react so quickly?” A voice was blaring in the background but it was fuzzy and far away compared to the sound of Julian’s hard breathing in his face, his breath warming Garak’s cool skin. Julian’s hands gripped Garak’s waist harder, and his green eyes met Garak’s blue eyes and held there, and oh, there was a definite spark, an interest. Julian hadn’t removed his hands, and if Garak wasn’t hallucinating in the moment, they were grasping even harder now, moving gently, _feeling._

“Ah… I…” _Lost for words? Idiot!_ “An agent doesn’t give away all of his secrets,” breathed Garak, hoping for obfuscation to save him in this moment of extreme weakness. His nose was less than a centimeter from Julian’s, and Julian’s slightly damp hair was tickling his forehead. _He smells like fresh shampoo and happiness and I am ruined, so ruined-_

“Your secret would be safe with me,” murmured Julian, his formerly startled expression slowly turning into a cheeky smile. Julian slowly moved forward and brushed his nose against Garak’s, the smile growing wider and Garak could hardly breathe as he returned the motion. They were still clasped together on the floor of the DMV that was still a complete mess, surrounded by license plates and pieces of a broken chair but in that moment they felt so alone that it didn’t matter. However, the moment broke when the voice on the loudspeaker announced, “A6, come to desk four please, last call-“

“Oh _fuck_ that’s me-“ groaned Julian and Garak reluctantly unlocked his arms, letting Julian clamber over him to grab his application and folder to head over to the desk. Garak quickly rolled over and rose, trying to regain any dignity lost from the moment, but no one had been watching them. They were all instead focused on the man who had thrown and chair and was now furiously gesturing and arguing with a manager, explaining why he shouldn’t have to pay for the broken chair.

Returning to their basket (which luckily, in the destructive wave of chaos, had not been knocked over), Garak began to pick up the bits of apple that had been on Julian’s lap before the lizard incident had occurred. His heart was pounding fast, his hands were shaking as the slippery bits of apples fell from his hands as he picked them up with trembling fingers. _He wasn’t horrified. He wasn’t scared. I lost myself in my training for a moment and he… he wanted to see more._

He was terrified to go down that road. It was inconceivable. There were things that Julian should never, ever know. But perhaps… some things? Anything? He ached to end this hidden life with someone that was an open book to him-

But Julian _wasn’t_ an open book, he realized. He’d seen it a few times this night alone – such as the curiously dark answer about the handwriting and the strict attentiveness when it came to others and their actions, for example. These were things that before tonight, he hadn’t seen.  

And the hands… there was no mistaking that. Julian had initiated the brief intimacy they had there, and if it hadn’t been for his number being called, Garak wasn’t sure if they would have stopped.

So many questions whirling in his mind, and the object of all of his thoughts was standing at a counter forty feet away, getting his picture taken for his new license, with damp tousled hair and mussed clothes.

Garak packed away the rest of the napkins and threw away the apple bits that had rested on the floor, allowing himself to smile as he saw Julian turn towards him and wave.

“Looks like I’m clear to go! I’ll get my new license in a week. Plenty of time before I have to drive the Defiant on deliveries.” With that he skipped – _literally skipped –_ over to Garak and stood in front of him, brimming with excitement. “Well, let’s go! We can make the second half of the concert for sure now.”

“Let’s stop by the apartment again and drop off the basket and pick up the springwine,” suggested Garak, turning towards the door. _Would it be too forward to hold his hand as we walked? Should I wait until-_

A warm hand grasping his answered his question. Garak didn’t turn to face Julian, but continued towards the door, hesitantly squeezing his hand in response.

There were many other questions to be asked. Questions of handwriting and spies and morality… but not that night.

Except for one.

“Julian, there’s another Cardassian novel I’d like to recommend to you… it’s one of my favorites. I’m curious if you’d be interested in reading it?”


End file.
